


First Hunt

by Happyorogeny



Series: The Illidari [1]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-22 14:53:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13766505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Happyorogeny/pseuds/Happyorogeny
Summary: The Illidari have been quiet for an hour. Illidan is concerned.





	First Hunt

Something was wrong.

Illidan had been awake an hour and the Black Temple remained entirely peaceful. There had been no excited screaming, crashing or furious rows from his newly fledged demon hunters.

He dipped his talons into a pot of felfire ink and reached for the map before him. Every map of Outland he could find was wrong. No wonder Lady Vashj and Prince Kael’thas were always getting lost.

Fortunately there was magic in the remnants of this ruined place. He could perceive it clearly through fog and cloud and storm. His ability to soar unfettered for hours on end and his excellent memory made him a surprisingly adept cartographer. These maps were the most accurate representation of the land around them to date, eagerly awaited by his Sin’dorei and orc scouts alike.

Perhaps he had missed his true calling in life.

He finished the northern expanse with a dire warning – here be Wardens – and stood.

He had improved the transformation process to the point where most of them now survived. The trick had been to let them bond to one another so that the neophytes had friends cheering them on as they fought their demon down, familiar voices to swim back to when the darkness became too much. Now they dashed and glided around the temple, learning the edges of their powers and getting their horns entangled in everything. Akama had spent an hour last week freeing four of them from netted curtains only for them to immediately charge into it again, indignant that the thing had trapped them.

Their excess energy would be of use against the Legion.

Illidan hadn’t allowed them outside the temple yet. For all their strength and speed he hadn’t thought them ready to fight a fully manifested demon. Soon, he had told himself. Worse than demons, he knew the Wardens were out there with their traps and their poison, vanishing like smoke at the slightest hint of a scouting party. He had no illusions about what would happen should Maiev get her gauntlets on Kayn or Belath.

He called the Sin’dorei scouts as he left, heard them pour sand across the paper so as to dry off excess ink. Felfire could be deadly to the touch for an unaltered elf. Even from the end of the corridor he detected the faint rustle as they rolled it up. Yet still he heard nothing from his demon hunters. It didn’t necessarily mean they had all killed each other in the night. They were past that stage now, mostly.

That hadn’t stopped Caria from falling to the Legion, betraying them and killing two of her fellows before she left. When he found the traitor next he would eat her heart in front of her. The coward had planned to murder everyone on her floor but had been discovered. Lyra had chased her off but paid dearly for her courage – her left arm was gone from the elbow down. 

The demon hunters had cremated their fellows in the main courtyard last night, chasing off any curious onlookers. Kaldorei usually buried their dead whereas Sin’dorei immolated or magically turned them to stone. But they were something different now and had decided that their companions would prefer to burn and spring free into the sky rather than linger in this world. In death, they would take flight.

It seemed that the survivors hadn’t left after the funeral. They lay listless on the flagstones as the grey ash drifted to and fro across them.

Allari, Kor’vas and a dozen other women clustered together in a pile near a makeshift fire, utterly disheartened. The Sin’dorei amongst them pushed themselves closer to the flames, more sensitive to the cold than Kaldorei. On the far side of the fire Belath stretched out his wings for several of the smaller hunters to cluster under.

Beyond him Jace and a dozen others had requisitioned the orcish tents, tossing all the contents out in order to create space for themselves inside. Marius and two smaller males tried to comfort Lyra over the loss of her arm, curling around her and helping her sharpen her talons. Kayn didn’t even have the heart to bully Altruis by biting his ears or swinging out of his hair. 

Illidan usually kept his distance from the new hunters. He wasn’t here to coddle them. They were warriors. But they were moping. All of them had come here overwhelmed with grief and anger. In their new lives they’d had purpose, a shared goal and the strength with which to achieve it. To have one of their own, someone they trusted, turn like this was a vicious betrayal. They would drown in the sorrow of it. 

They had the courtyard to themselves. The orcs hovered in the alcoves leading into their main hall, reluctant to reclaim their tents. They couldn’t even get at their cooking fires for Asha had climbed into one of the massive black pots and peered at them from beneath the lid, hissing when they came too close and snickering when they fled from her.

The other denizens of the Black Temple found his creations unnerving and avoided them. As was right. They ought to fear them. 

The Illidari stirred as his shadow flicked across them. Glowing eyes lit up, leathery wings stretched and joints popped as they pulled themselves upright. Claws and hooves scrabbled and they grumbled and growled and purred as they perked up and bowed low, voices blending into a low thrill of greeting.  
He circled the courtyard once and glided to a halt in the centre, silencing the thrill that rose up in his chest in turn. 

“Form up,” he rumbled. “I have a mission for you.”

Green and indigo tattoos burst into life and excited whispers rushed between them. Many of them still clung to one another but he would allow them that. He had developed a fresh appreciation for the soft comfort of touch during his long years underground. 

Opening his wings with a leathery snap, he took away once more.

“Stay here.”  
…  
The Illidari waited. Impatiently. Kor’vas sighed and broke formation to go antagonise Vandel. He hissed at her irritably and she tackled him. Asha swiped at a flailing wing and all three of them started to squabble. Allari trotted over to Jace and tucked herself under his wing, looking for company. Kayn fluttered his wings at them, agitated. 

“We have to be ready!”

“I am ready. I’ll be more ready if I’m warm.”

“That makes no sense!" 

Lyra had now curled herself into the corner between two weapon racks, half her body painted with soot. She snarled at Altruis as he approached. He crooned back and started to brush the worst of the ash off her scales.

"Leave her. Let her be sad,” Kayn said. He despised people pawing at him while he tried to grieve. Besides, she had always being one of the weaker among them, she hadn’t even taught herself to glide and now she only had one arm.

Altruis roundly ignored him.

Belath had strayed off and was trying to befriend some of the orcs. They were daring each other to go closer and closer to the strange feral fel beasts, goading one another to touch them. His enthusiastic attempts to greet them in orcish, combined with glowing wings and burning eyes sent them scattering back, their friends laughing. 

The demon hunters looked distinctively preternatural to those around them. There was enough of the initial shape there to read as an elf, but the tattoos and horns and scales and claws all seemed to be overlaid on them, sitting on their bodies like oil upon water.

Kor’vas had disengaged from her fight and now looked on in growing anger, baring her teeth when the orcs looked towards her.

“What are they laughing at? They have no right to laugh. We are worth ten of them!”

About twenty of the fifty odd demon hunters held true formation, but even they stretched their feet and flexed their wings and sharpened their claws on their horns. 

Illidan was cunning about his return. He flew up to a great height, filled the airsacs in his stomach and glided so that they had no audible warning.

Not until a fully grown bull Nathrezim slammed into the flagstones of the courtyard in front of them. Those nearest it shrieked and scattered as it lurched upright, roaring in pain. His left wing was shattered near the base, shards of white bone poking through spongy flesh and his immense barrel chest dripped green blood from a dozen deep, distinctive wounds. 

Illidan perched on the top of a watchtower at the main gate, wings spread wide. His talons dripped ichor and his teeth glistened with gore as he called down to the demon hunters.

“This creature is responsible for turning the mind of your former companion.”  
As one they turned to focus upon the demon. He lurched fully upright, twice as tall as any of the hunters, and laughed. The sound was like bone grinding, like boulders falling.

“So the mongrel made itself a pack.”

Even if the bulk of them hadn’t lost loved ones to the Legion, there was something about a demons voice that could enrage even Altruis. Every last one of them fell deadly silent and Illidan’s command rolled over them like a wave.

“Send the Legion a message.”

Their formation shattered as they dived forwards.

None of them had fought a demon before, aside from the one they dominated during their transformation. The Nathrezim seemed to realise their lack of experience for he dropped to all fours, tucked his head down so that his horns bristled forwards and bulled through them, knocking aside the smaller demon hunters with ease. Shrieks of pain rose up in his wake and several hunters lay crumpled like broken flowers, flapping and struggling to rise.

Kor’vas gathered herself and leaped against the stew pot hanging over the central fire. A cloud of sizzling steam billowed upwards, cloaking them. The injured demon hunters scrambled away, keeping themselves low to the ground. But Mryle was too slow, his right arm and leg broken, trying to pull himself along with his wings. He screamed in anger and pain as the Natriziem grabbed him and turned to Illidan, who gathered himself to spring forwards.

“I shall slaughter each of them in front of you, and when I am finished-”

They all saw the fel magic flicker around Mryle as massive jagged spikes burst from his back, cutting deep into demon flesh and prying his hand apart. Mryle could have twisted free but instead dragged his blindfold loose. The demon bellowed as green felflame licked forwards across his chest and head. Lifting his hand he hurled the demon hunter away. 

Altruis rushed forwards and sprang, ragged wings spreading with a snap. Mryle wailed in pain as Altruis grabbed him out of midair and again as his bones started to stitch themselves back together. Their innate healing powers were directly connected to their central nervous system so that pain triggered a surge of painkillers, adrenaline and restorative magic. In Altruis’s opinion it took far too long for the numbing effects to kick in.

He dropped to the ground behind the orcish tents and turned.

The demon pursued them, plainly enjoying their fear and defiance. He supposed a lot of creatures just gave up when a demon came so near. The dead wing dragging along the ground as he prowled forwards, claws splayed. He crouched and tried to remember the weak points on a Nathrezim - and then the creature brayed and came to a halt as curved glaives sank deep into his back. Kayn used his weapons as stepping stones to scramble up the demons spine, grabbing a horn and dragging on it to haul the monsters head around.

But Kayn was small and lightly built. The demon flicked his head and threw him away with comparative ease. He smashed into a rack of spears at the end of the training grounds and cursed as they collapsed on top of him. 

Lyra twisted free of the wreckage and turned to haul him free with her remaining arm. Kayn scrambled to get his feet under him, the spears rolling and sending him to his knees. The demon knocked several would-be hunters away with a sweep of his good wing and turned towards them, a wicked grin flexing wide at the sight of two injured crossbreeds to toy with. Green spittle dripped forwards to hiss and smoke upon the flagstones of the courtyard. 

Lyra drew herself up to her full unimpressive height as the beast approached and leaped put herself between him and Kayn. The skin of her back shimmered emerald and burst open with a spray of blood. Lyra yowled as she flicked brand new wings open and let it built into a warbling screech. She had the largest wings he’d ever seen, with a leading edge that glinted silver and incredibly long curved wing barbs. 

The Nathrezim hesitated in the face of her rage. 

“Get away from them!” Izal was usually a quiet woman, preferring animals to people. No one had ever heard her shout. But now her cry bounced off the courtyard walls, very rapidly followed by the familiar roar of a felbat. 

Izal had managed to get a saddle on the creature she dubbed Banshee, had bathed and groomed his silvery fur till it shone and somehow found the time to paint the creature with tattoos that matched her own. Though only one generation out of the Legion, the felbat adored her and would eat out of her hand like a tamed saber. Crouching, he leaped to attack the larger demon without hesitation. Izal stood and back-flipped off, snatching the soft muzzle from his jaws as she did so.

Altruis flattened his ears back. 

“Get down!”

Felbats shrieked to see where they were in the world. But under Izal’s careful guidance, this one could now use his voice as a weapon. His skin bulged strangely around his ribs as he inhaled and bellowed outwards. The stones of the courtyard cracked beneath the thrumming echo of Banshee’s cry and the demon hunters clinging to the Natrizhiem leaped away as he turned right into the blast wave.

The demons of the Legion had burned a thousand worlds, but this was different from fire and metal and whips. This couldn’t be fought. His eyes erupted in bursts of fel gore. A dozen hollow spaces in his skull and ribcage vibrated until they burst. He clamped huge talons to his ears and roared in protest as the drums burst and the world around him fell silent. But all that pain simply seemed to enrage him further.

“You think any of you can stand against the power of the Legion?” He roared. Destructive magic flickered out to catch the nearest demon hunters unawares, snapping bone and shredding flesh. He knocked the Asha away with a crash and kicked Altruis flat as he tried to lunge forwards. The demon then turned upon the injured Cassia and lifted his hand high to summon an immense serrated sword. 

“Go on!” He bellowed at Illidan, who hadn’t moved since the fight began. “Save them!”

Cassia shrieked at him in defiance. Jace leaped a pile of rubble and set himself before the demon, wings spread wide. Something changed in his face. His markings blazed and the colour seemed to spread into the veins of his wings and spark down his arms. Fresh horns burst from his skull.

Illidan rumbled low down in his throat, the sound somehow cutting through the pandemonium.

Jace roared again, drawing the demons attention onto him, and lifted his glaives in a last defiance as the jagged sword came crashing down.

The blade broke upon his with a crash like a hundred gongs, shattering it almost entirely through. Jace was driven to his knees. But yet he held as his fellows picked themselves up, the healthy moving in front of the injured. He lifted his face to peer into that of the demon as he slowly but surely gathered himself and stood. 

“Well done.” Illidan sharpened his talons on the edge of the tower. “Now finish him off." 

The Nathrezim roared in fury and threw the rest of his weight behind the shattered sword, trying to crush Jace into the ground. A dozen demon hunters dived to him, clustering around him and stabbing up into the demons arm so as to force him back. Great jagged spikes burst from their backs so that he could not snatch them up. 

The rest swarmed onto his legs, grabbed onto his arms, clambered over one another to climb up his back. Kayn dashed between the demons claws to leap upon his face and battered the demon with his wings. Veil balanced herself like a cat upon his back, gouging whatever she could reach. Allari and Kor’vas dragged down his good wing and start to break the bone from the end up, standing on the membrane as they went so that he could not shake them off. Altruis dived to hamstring the monster with a swift sweep of his glaives, sending it toppling forwards. Even the injured Mryle limped forwards to drive his glaives into the creatures’ barrel-like ribcage.

Only Izal hung back to fuss over her injured bat. 

They hadn’t quite figured out how to kill with efficiency or speed. The Nathrezim died slowly and with much violence, ripped to bloody shreds by glaive and claw and fang alike as he bellowed threats of vengeance. Every movement, every shout invigorating the Illidari in their efforts until finally the beast was still.

But they weren’t content with that alone. This monster had led to desertion and death and despair in their ranks. They continued to tear at the massive corpse and restarted the bonfire so as to burn his flesh away to nothing, revealing black, rune inscribed bones. Only when they had dragged had immense skeleton apart and battered half of it to dust did they seem content.

And then all at once it became a game. Allari and Asha goaded each other to jumping over the crackling flames, giggling and twisting as they went. Mryle whimpered until Belath and Altruis went and sat on either side of him at which point he immediately started to preen and boast of his bravery. Jace padded over to Kor’vas, purple hair askew, who started to bandage the wounds he’d sustained on his arms. Lyra balanced on top of the demons remaining ribcage and thrilled proudly, flapping her new wings and bobbing her head in half-challenge at Kayn.

“I’ll fly before you do, just see if I don’t!”

He huffed, delicately probing at a loosened fang, and promptly straightened up as Illidan drifted out of the sky to land amongst them.

“Well done.”

They crooned in delight at the rare praise.

Illidan sincerely doubted any of them would ever fly. Their bodies weren’t altered enough by the transformation ritual to allow such a thing. But nevertheless it was good for them to have aspirations.

More importantly, they were laughing now. They knew a demon could be killed, knew that for all their power and cruelty, a demon could be matched, could be overcome. That knowledge was a powerful thing. It settled into the bones and the blood to know that such malevolence could be ended by your hand. He knew the feeling well. There was a new edge to their expressions as they clustered around him expectantly.

“Next, a shivarra.”

He ripped open a portal in the fabric of the courtyard and leaped through. The demon hunters followed him without hesitation, whooping with glee as they went.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this work, check out the rest of my writing and find me at https://happyorogeny.tumblr.com/writing


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